


To His Mistress Going to Bed

by deathsweetqueen



Series: Jagged Little Tapestry [4]
Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dream Sex, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Submission, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 04:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/pseuds/deathsweetqueen
Summary: In which Caroline dreams of Klaus and is pleasantly surprised with his prowess as the god of epic kinky sex.





	To His Mistress Going to Bed

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah, this is basically porn on paper. This is most certainly NSFW and NSFR and I have tagged as much. Even for those of you who enjoy some smut now and then, this kind of goes into the fetish, kinky nature of smut, so be warned. Be very warned.

She was seated on top of him, straddling his bare, muscled chest, her thighs locked around his torso. His hands were hot on her bare skin, stroking over soft, supple flesh and rendering her an incoherent, hungry mess, teasing her just to the point of madness. She ached to reach out for him, desperation sinking into her skin and making her fingers tremble, as she imagined what it would be like to have his lips descend, warm and smooth and skilful, onto hers, pressing insistently and his tongue licking into the inside of her teeth.

Unfortunately, her hands were bound at the wrists behind her back with something smooth and made of silk, she guessed.

He laid back against the headboard of the bed, his eyes twinkling with the satisfaction of having her naked in his lap, bound and writhing, her cunt grinding down onto the ridges of his abdomen, searching for any sort of relief for the distracting wetness and throbbing between her thighs. She whimpered and her thighs quaked as shocks passed through her nerves at every insistent rock of her hips, her cunt slicking his well-defined torso. Her hips undulated without a regard to her own wantonness, her mind only knowing the painful perfection of his touch, soothing the fires that he had stoked inside of her. The sharp intensity of his gaze, despite his sinewy muscles that were locked and loaded with resting power even in the midst of recreation, seemed to immortalise her in his very mind, his look snatching the air right out of her lungs. Blue eyes swooped into her soul, as his head tipped up, short blonde curls tickling the underside of her jaw. He pressed his mouth to her throat and she gasped.

“ _Klaus_.” She panted. “ _Please, Klaus_.”

Her hips rocked down, purposefully, her cunt grinding fervently for some friction to alleviate her arousal.

“Moan for me, love.” He purred in her ear, the low timbre of his voice sending pulses of heat that settled in her cunt and made her spread her legs even wider above him, wetness flooding her inner thighs and his abdomen, making her undulations and his skin hot and wet and slick.

Her clit dragged across his well-defined stomach and she couldn’t help the breathy, cracked moan that fell from her lips, her hips pressing down insistently, his voice only renewing the ache that thrummed in her belly. His arms were tucked behind his head, the lean, sinewy muscles of his well-defined biceps, a dark, feral, wolfish,  _proud_  look in his dark blue eyes, a poised smirk on his reddened lips, his eyes raking up and down her needful,  _thrashing_  body.

A hopeful, dazed, slightly deranged look in her blue-green eyes, her arms deliciously sore from being tethered behind her back in order to satisfy his desire, her hair dishevelled and curling around her face, mussed from sweat and sex, and her eyes hooded and wanting. Her nipples tightened at his deliberate,  _defiantly possessive_  sweep of her body, her breasts full and lush, her body looking thoroughly fucked in a manner of speaking.

She may have arched her back, the sudden urge to have his mouth on her breasts burning through her like a red-hot wire.

“Klaus, I can’t-” she whimpered.

Klaus rolled his eyes, shifting slightly underneath her, his slight movement making her grit her teeth and dig her knees into the mattress, the jolt sending a shock wave coursing from her throbbing clit right through the rest of her body.

“Make yourself come, Caroline.” Klaus growled, authoritatively. “I sure as hell am not going to help you.”

Caroline couldn’t help the slow pout that formed on her cherry-red lips, a slow pulse of heat settling low in her stomach at his rough words, the dominance in his tone causing her insides to liquefy.

Her dreams had never taken such a deviant turn prior to her interlude with Klaus in his attic. Hell, she’d never thought she was one to be into bondage or sadomasochism, but considering the way the soft, damp flesh between her thighs gushed in response to her predicament and Klaus’ dark, alluring threat, she guessed she did have a thing for it after all.

Frankly, she blamed Elena and her no-humanity, bitchy self for stealing the prom dress she had spent  _months_ searching for in the blink of an eye, forcing her to march straight over to Klaus’ creepy mansion and ask for one of his creepy trophy-case pieces. The moment they had shared in his attic – the kiss, the  _magical, stealing-breath-out-of-lungs, foot-popping, toe curling, making-you-question-your-place-in-this-world_  kiss – had sliced deep into her heart and settled, leading to this re-enactment of some hardcore, kinky skin flick that starred her as the busty, breathy,  _frankly desperate_  blonde and Klaus as the well-hung guy in a position of power, not really taking advantage of her considering her almost unbelievable willingness to let him treat her like this.

“But,  _Klaus_ -” She whined.

Klaus sighed. “Oh, come on, love. We both know you’re practically gagging for it.” He said, pointedly.

Caroline bared her teeth and snapped at him like a wounded, wilfully disobedient animal, desperation stilling and anger roaring in her mind, filling her vision with vicious, red spots, at his cavalier attitude to the hedonism and submission and borderline humiliation he had guided her into with a hand on the small of her back and an consenting, eager smile on her lush, pink lips.

“My poor, sweet Caroline. Oh, love, look at how  _bloody_  desperate you are. How wound up.” He crooned,  ~~a~~  smug satisfaction colouring his low growl.

His voice was smooth as liquid gold to her, despite the roughness of his growl, as if he were reciting the sweetest words of poetry to her, but with an undercurrent of male pride at turning her into a begging, writhing, _tortured_  mess in his lap, unashamed and smug that her desperation for some sort of reprieve had turned her into an addict longing for a hit.

“You’re dripping all over me, sweetheart.” Klaus said, approvingly. “You can’t pretend you don’t want this.” He clucked his tongue, thoughtfully. “Perhaps I can move you along a bit, though.”

His voice was soothing.

 _As if he’s doing me such a huge fucking favour by helping me get off – the bastard_. Caroline thought, spitefully, the familiar tones of her rebellion coursing through her veins.

This was quickly silenced when his lush mouth latched onto her breast, taking what she was so willingly offering him without a single burst of shame anywhere in her body or mind, and his teeth tugged on her nipple, tight and sensitive, her mouth open in a wordless scream as mind-numbing pleasure coursed through her.

He pulled away from her, regarding her quivering body, thoughtfully. He hummed under his breath, his dark blue eyes searing lines across her body.

“Not enough, it seems.” He mused. “But if I give in to your wishes and fuck you now, it sets a dangerous precedent, sweetheart.” He said, apologetically.

His hand slid into her sweat-matted blonde curls and tugged sharply, exposing the long, lean line of her porcelain-skinned throat. His lips curled into a smirk as they pressed against her jugular, against the throbbing vein filled with red, gushing,  _sweet – like Caroline_  – blood.

“And we can’t have you thinking that I’d let you get away with just  _anything_ , now can we?”

Caroline resisted the urge to scream, his taunting making her suddenly want him to crack him over the skull with the nearest sharp object, or maybe sink her fingers into his chest and wrap around his beating heart –  _knock him down a few pegs_ , she decided.

He sighed, as if what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever  ~~have~~  had to come to terms with. “As much as I would love to sink my cock into your sweet cunt and never leave,” His fingers suddenly swiped at her throbbing clit, making her mouth part in a soundless cry that sent shockwaves pouring into every inch of her, and lifted his damp fingers to his mouth, sucking her wetness off, seductively, his fingers slipping from his red, spit-slick lips with a lewd pop. “I’m going to have to say no, Caroline, love.” He purred, his eyes flashing, wickedly.

“Asshole.” She hissed, spitefully.

Klaus had the nerve to grin at her expletive, revelling in her sudden show of defiance. “You know, I was going to curl my fingers inside all of that hot, wet sweetness between your thighs, let your hips roll as you fuck my hand, and sate your need, but just for that, I think I’ll just watch as you grind and slide your cunt over me to the point of your orgasm.”

His voice was deliciously mournful, but his dark, wild eyes flashed with triumph and satisfaction.

Caroline’s head lowered at the squandered promise of relief, cursing herself for being so quick to temper.

 _But, to be fair, it’s Klaus._  She thought, incredulously, ridiculously needing to defend her own actions.  _The guy’s a walking jackass and he’s fucking asking for it. Anyone would get angry if they were sitting on his lap, naked and horny, waiting for him to do something about it and he was just sitting here, watching them fucking writhe with want of sex with that stupid, perfect smirk on his stupid, kissable lips and not doing anything about it. I mean, what kind of self-respecting guy has a hot, naked chick – especially since he’s been looking to get said hot, naked chick into his bed for months now – practically begging him to fuck her and would much rather screw with her and watch her make herself come? I could totally understand if he wanted to see that after the fifth or so time we’ve fucked, but instead of getting his mack on with me, he prefers to play the voyeur at a time like this?_

_Oh, fuck this, I need to come. I can’t be stuffed with rationalising all of this._

“Remember, love, you have to ask permission before you come.” Klaus said, cheerfully, his dimples showing

Caroline’s mouth parted, ignoring the way she seethed at his comment, as her pelvis sank down, her cunt grinding, her inner thighs, sticky and wet, tightening around his lean waist. His hands slid across the slight curve of her hips, his fingers slotting into the grooves of her pelvic bone, pressing her down with urgency, just to help her along. She was dirty and hot and perfect and open and Klaus had the sudden, sly, artful thought that she was the picture of Titan’s  _Venus of Urbino_ , all porcelain skin, long, blonde curls, her spread legs, the subtle curve to her hips, the flushing of her skin, her head tilting back, her back arched, her full red lips.

She was absolute.

Caroline took a deep breath, ignoring the ache in her arms, and pressed down, the damp slide of her cunt swivelling against the ridges of his muscles, the friction only assisting the onslaught of sensations clenching low in her stomach. Klaus simply sat there, his hands moving from the grooves in her pelvic bone, Caroline feeling the loss of his assistance keenly, to wrap around the posts at the edges of the headboard, his change in stance making him shift slightly underneath her and causing her to whimper in displeasure at the suddenly renewed throbbing that just never seemed to reach the peak she was aiming for, no matter what she tried to do, no matter which way her hips undulated or how hard she ground her cunt against his stomach. He smirked at the short twitches of her body, the scorching heat of her cunt warming and wetting his skin.

“Hard, isn’t it, sweetheart?” Klaus crooned, ruthlessly, brushing her sweat-soaked hair away from her flushed face. “Don’t worry, love, I’m sure you’ll get there soon.”

Caroline gritted her teeth, her nails digging into her palms in a vain attempt to stop herself from throttling him.

Her hips rolled to a different rhythm and a stunned, enraptured, wordless cry fell from her lips.

Agonised shocks that teetered on the edge between pain and pleasure coursed right through her, renewing her ache.

Her cunt clutched frantically and desperately at nothing, gushing anew and dampening Klaus’ abdomen with more of her come.

Her back arched and she thrust the full curve of her flushed breasts against his mouth, his teeth nipping at the warm, aching skin with amusement as he realised that she had managed to her get herself back into the swing of things. But he wouldn’t stop his torment until he saw her come and scream his name at the top of her lungs, her limbs seizing and thrashing in his lap ~~s~~  until the aftershocks of her climax had subsided.

Her skin went from slick and cool with sweat to a renewed burn with every persistent undulation of her hips, the heat pressure growing in the pit of her stomach. Her thighs jerked and shook wildly each time her clit came into contact with the ridges of his muscles from this different angle.

“ _Klaus_!” She shrieked, her eyes squeezing shut.

“No.” Klaus growled, roughly. “Don’t close your eyes, Caroline.” Her eyes drifted back open, her stomach flexing with every roll of her hips. “I want to see your eyes when you come. I want you to know, when you’re thrashing in my arms and your cunt is gushing and your eyes are rolling back in your head from the intensity of your climax, that only I can make you come undone without even putting my hands on you. Only I can draw every drop of pleasure from your gorgeous body and still make you beg for more. I don’t even have to touch you to turn you into this shameless little thing, so desperate for an orgasm that you’ll rub yourself  _over and over again_  on my stomach like a bitch in heat.  _You’re mine_ ,  _love_.”

His words crawled through her veins like a drug and burned, branding her from the inside.

“It’s time you stopped denying that.”

“Klaus-” She gasped out, her voice raspy and her flesh set on fire.

“Say it, my love. Say you’re mine.”

Klaus tugged on her hair, sharply, the sting of his action and the heat of his words pooling low in her cunt, the muscles deep inside of her flexing and opening; she was so utterly turned on, slightly debased but loving it, swiftly approaching the cliff that she had been trying for what seemed like an eternity to throw herself off in bliss and suspense.

“Klaus, I-” She panted in short, little breaths, her grinding quickening and her thighs aching with the force of the pressure.

“ _Say it_.”

“ _I’m yours_.” She managed to scream out, her cunt pounding as if echoing the truth of her words.

Klaus smiled slow and smug. “Good girl.” He said, approvingly.

His praise made her stomach clench, reluctantly, the sane part of her mind – that hadn’t dissolved into a puddle of lust and arousal and desperation and hunger and madness – inwardly screaming at her to not make him her master. But at this point, she didn’t care what she looked like: dirty, greedy, whatever. She’d deal with that once she had come.

Once she had come, she could turn the tables and make  _him_  desperate for  _her_. She could spread her legs and make him  _beg_  to lick her out, or tie him to the same bed he was lounging on and lowering her cunt to his perfect, red mouth, grind against him and see how he liked it. Or she could kneel down in front of him, take him inch by inch into her mouth and watch him come apart from above her, but  _only_  when she wanted him to. If she didn’t get to come until he said so, there was no way in hell he’d get the gloriousness of her mouth on his cock and her swallowing his come down without giving a little something back in turn: namely, his pride and control. She’d steal it from him while on her knees and with a smile.

But now, she can feel herself building and screaming and crying into him and begging and desperate. Her thighs and wrists ached, her skin was hot, her nipples tight, her breath coming out in short, broken gasps, her clit throbbing and sending shocks right through her body and her cunt clenching.

Then, she remembered: “Remember, love, you have to ask permission before you come.”

“Klaus?”

Her voice was high-pitched and uncertain and pleading, her thighs trembling and her body tensing with the awaiting suspense of the spasms intensifying in her pelvis, settling low and sharp in her willing cunt. 

She honestly could not be more articulate than that, her voice nothing but high-pitched, broken whines that were a testament to the brink of her orgasm, her hips undulating shamelessly, her lips and eyes utterly wrecked.

“ _Come, Caroline_.”

Her orgasm crashed over like a wave, her cunt pressing firmly into the body below her, her knees digging into the mattress, her mouth open in a wordless scream, her muscles tightening and her limbs seizing and thrashing as if in the midst of a seizure. Her body trembled as she collapsed over his chest, her thighs quivering with aftershocks and her teeth chattering, sweat clinging to her skin and wrists continuing to ache, her bones turned to liquid.

Her fingers trembled as he carefully undid the silk ties that had her wrists bound. She winced as her arms were freed from the pressure. She whimpered, her lips pressing against his breastbone, her nose jutting into the inky black birds marked onto his shoulder and clavicle. She almost didn’t believe what she was seeing when she watched him take her hands into his and lift them to his mouth, kissing where the ties had left red, angry lines across her wrist and her nails had carved crescent-shaped marks into her palms.

“Oh, I hate you so fucking much.” Caroline muttered, spent, her body languid and sore. “I’m never going to be able to look you in the eye ever again.” Caroline shifted on top of him, her chin resting on his ribs as she looked up at him. “Seriously, where did you come up with all of this BDSM, Fifty Shades of Grey-esque stuff?”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “That book is  _not_  a good manual for rough sex, sweetheart.”

He looked down at her, his eyes feral and wicked, his fingers stroking down her blonde curls in a remarkably tender gesture for someone who had just sat back without a care in the world and made her grind herself on top of him to orgasm.

Caroline grinned.

“And not too bad for a dream, was I?” Klaus commented, smugly. “If only you were this liberated in real life, if only you’d admit to yourself that you’re  _mine_ , my love, we could be doing this all the time.”

The way his hand skimmed the length of her naked, flushed, languid body was deliberately possessive. A mark of ownership, if ever she knew one. If he could, he’d carve his name into her bones and flesh and never let her go.

Caroline snorted. “It’s bad enough having to enact kinky fantasies with you in a dream, Klaus, you really think I want to deal with it in real life? I think I’ll stick with the dreams, thank you very much.” She curled her arm around his waist, her mouth pressing against the base of his throat.

“At least, this way, I get one hell of an orgasm and I don’t have to look at you or deal with any of the shame in the morning.”


End file.
